


Drink, Drank, Drunk

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye and Jemma unwind after a long day at work. With tequila.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink, Drank, Drunk

“C’mon, Jem. This is a good idea. You’re the one who says you need to unwind after a long day of work.” Skye stands in the doorway with two bottles of tequila in her hands. She moves to set everything down on the coffee table where an arrangement of shot glasses, lemons and salt has already been displayed before Jemma got home. There’s also enough cash to pay for the pizza and Skye’s laptop with the red Netflix screen.

“Yes, with a beer, Skye. Not with two bottles of tequila.” She laughs nonetheless and hops on the couch with Skye, who has slouched down and connected her laptop to the widescreen tv. 

“What’s the difference, really. We’ll get drunk in the end anyway, because we’re tired and we’ve started drinking before our pizza got here. So we might as well just drink the tequila.”

“Fine, but you’re not drinking from the bottle. And you’re not opening the door in your bra like last time.”

“Maybe without pants on this time then, maybe?” Skye grins and dodges Jemma’s hand when she wants to shove her.

“Skye!”  
“Fine, I’ll behave.”

Skye indeed doesn’t open the door with missing clothes, but she does manage to make an inappropriate comment to the guy when he hands her the pizza, for which Jemma has to apologise and tip. He says it’s okay, though, fortunately, but Jemma can’t help but roll her eyes at Skye.

By the time the pizza arrived they had downed half a bottle of tequila and watched one episode of some random TV show that didn’t really require much attention. It was easy to watch and funny and it didn’t matter if you missed two minutes because of staring. The last thing was something Skye quickly realised.

Jemma had moved over to sit on the floor, close to the table to safely eat her pizza and not get grease all over her blouse. Skye had already wiped her hands on her pants like three times, so she decided that it didn’t really matter anymore and continued to wipe them there, until Jemma threw a napkin into her lap.

She poured another shot for them and Skye downed it quickly, following it with a bite of pizza before slumming back into the couch again. The room was spinning slightly and she felt warm. It had started to get dark now the evening was falling and Skye was staring again. 

Her eyes followed the curve of Jemma’s nose down to her lips and her chin. The soft slope of her shoulders and the way her back was really straight even though she had been drinking and was sitting on the floor. Her skin was radiating, Skye could almost feel it, even though she wasn’t even sitting that close. She was beautiful, really. There was no denying in that. 

Skye knew it was stupid to say, although it was the truth, but she liked everything about Jemma. Right now she was shallow because of the alcohol, but she loved her quirkiness, the way she got excited over science and sweaters, how she would always argue with Skye over the size of their pizza, the label of their booze, and who would drive. How exceptionally smart she was. How brave she was and even though she was so tiny she would always defend her honour, and Skye’s. 

The alcohol buzzed through her system and clouded her judgement, but she knew exactly that this was how she always felt about Jemma. And it also made her feel stupid, because she for some reason only allowed these feelings to wash over her when she had drank almost an entire bottle of tequila by herself, when she was unable to speak without slurring. 

She also felt stupid because drinking always made her emotional, because of all those things. Skye knew that she had some dents and cracks here and there and that her rugged exterior was mostly show, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t work. It had protected her so many times over the years, and sure, she knew how to be vulnerable and how to show that, but she felt like there was something else, like she was scared of these feelings. Her feelings for Jemma Simmons, the tiny scientist that was sitting at her coffee table, intoxicated, still eating pizza and watching Netflix like the world could collapse.

Skye sighs audibly without realising and shakes herself from her thoughts. The room has gone entirely dark aside from the TV screen and Jemma jerks her head at the sound.

“Skye?” she asks quietly when she realises that there are tears on the other girl’s cheeks, but Skye doesn’t seem to realise that herself yet.

“Sorry, what?” Her voice cracks and her eyes grow wide. She quickly wipes the moisture from her cheeks and wipes her nose. She stands up, too rapidly, and that sends her spinning.

“Oh god,” she manages to utter before she feels two warm hands on her hips that steady her. She’s instantly grounded. 

“Shh, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

Skye has her eyes closed, but feels her warm breath on her skin. When she does open them she can see the worry spilling from Jemma’s face. She combs her hands through her hair and smiles softly.

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re here. Everything is fine.”

Her thumbs follow the soft lines of her face, trace along her cheekbones, her jaw, and her lips that part a little.

“We’re really drunk, Skye,” Jemma whispers when Skye’s forehead connects with hers.

“I know.”

It feels like forever that they are standing there. Their bodies pressed against each other, their hearts thudding in their chest, their eyes full of drunken desire.

Jemma is the first one to move. She stands on her tiptoes slightly and rubs her nose against Skye’s, grazing her lips against her cheek to finally land a soft kiss in the corner of her mouth. Skye inhales sharply, but doesn’t move away.

“Jemma, we’re really drunk.”

“I know,” she whispers back, grazing their lips together, tasting the remnants of tequila, salt and lemon, but she doesn’t close the gap.

Skye’s lips tingle numbly with anticipation and intoxication and she moans. “Jem,” she whimpers and swallows thickly when she slowly slides her hands under Skye’s shirt at her hips and her nails trail a slow pattern over her lower back. “You’re killing me,” she whispers and Jemma grins lazily.

Skye’s hands move to cup Jemma’s cheeks and she inhales shakily before licking her lips and kissing her, finally. It’s soft and wet and a bit sloppy. Jemma tastes like pizza and alcohol, but it’s fine, because the feeling of her lips against Skye’s are more than she could’ve hoped for.

Their kiss soon evolves into something more passionate and desperate, like they only now realised how much they craved each other. Their hands grow hungrier, revelling in the feel of every bit of exposed skin they can get. Skye leaves a trail of kisses down Jemma’s neck and ends at her clavicle. Their breathing is rough and irregular, their skin tingling and hot.

“Why does your blouse have so many buttons,” Skye laughs when her shaking hands can’t get the buttons open and Jemma smiles. Together they manage to undo them quickly, without ripping any off and Skye slowly pushes the fabric off her shoulders. 

She’s seen Jemma in her underwear before while just changing, but this time feels different. It’s a different light, a different setting and a whole different feeling. Probably because she’s slightly high from kissing her. Mostly, because it’s the feeling of Jemma’s skin under her eager fingertips.

“Take this off,” Jemma breathes against Skye’s collarbone, nipping at the soft flesh of her neck, and tugs at the hem of Skye’s tank top that’s discarded quickly afterwards.

It’s slow again, then, easy, when a shiver ripples over them. Like the realisation seeps into the corners of their minds. Jemma traces the edges of Skye’s abdomen with her thumbs while holding onto her hips and Skye runs her fingers up and down Jemma’s arms, mapping out her freckles. It’s almost as if they have never seen each other before, as if they need to remember everything.

“Hey, are you alright?” Skye asks when Jemma’s soft smile seems to falter for just a second, but Skye notices. Skye always notices.

“Yes, you’re so beautiful. I just hope this will all be the same in the morning.”

“It will be. You’ll be wrapped up in my arms and I’ll kiss you good morning.”

“Even if you’re hung-over?” Jemma asks with a lobsided smile and Skye nods furiously.

“Absolutely.”

“Good, then I’m alright, more than that, really,” Jemma mumbles against Skye’s lips, who smiles into their kiss and wraps her in her arms entirely.


End file.
